


Quid Pro Quo

by Glare



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex for Favors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 11:46:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6115468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glare/pseuds/Glare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finn and Hux had a mutually beneficial relationship aboard the Finalizer. When Hux is captured by the Resistance with valuable knowledge, Finn decides to use that connection to get his hands on it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quid Pro Quo

**Author's Note:**

> We interrupt your regularly scheduled multi-chapter to bring you this unbeta'd pwp.

Finn is off-world when the Resistance captures General Hux. He’s away with a small group of other fighters on a scouting mission, only learning the news during their daily report to General Organa or whoever happened to answer his call. The search for a new base of operations is going slowly. It’s not that they don’t have enough choices—rather, that they have too many. There are very few requirements that a planet must meet to house the Resistance, even the unhospitable Hoth had met them in the war against the Empire, which left them with a truly staggering number of worlds to choose from.

While any one of the worlds compiled by Finn and his band of scouts would serve their purposes, there are a few practical considerations to take in. Supplies, and ease of access to them, is one of them. The Resistance needs ready access to trade route, both domestic and First Order, in order to maintain a steady supply of food, weapons, and fuel. This is, in theory, where General Hux comes in. Captured when his personal shuttle was ambushed by Resistance pilots, the General is a wealth of First Order knowledge. He knows the trade routes, the locations of outposts, the appropriate codes to get into Order airspace. If they could get him to divulge that information, they would be able to select a new planet that would be to their best advantage.

It’s the making him talk part that’s holding the process up.

When Finn arrives back on D’Qar five days later, exhausted and sore and smelling like the inside of a Bantha after days of trekking through the wilderness of a dozen different planets, he is dutifully informed that Hux has yet to say a word to anyone that hasn’t involved either demands of his release or hatred for the Resistance. Finn feels his stomach flip-flop when his mind supplies a potential solution to the problem at hand. He doesn’t want to mention it, though, not yet. Not when all he wants is a hot shower with real water and a good night’s sleep in the quarters he shares with Poe. He’ll give it one more day. From what Poe tells him that night in the dark, when they’re lying in their bunks and the pilot is catching him up on the latest happening around base, Rey has managed to convince high command to allow her to attempt to use Force and pry the information from Hux’s mind.

Finn realizes that they’re not going to get a better chance than they’ll have with his plan when Rey stomps from the General’s cell in a tizzy, muttering under her breath about how the man’s mind is as confusing and avoidant as his speech. He can’t help but wonder if evasion is something that came naturally, or if Hux had developed the skill after so many years of working in proximity to Kylo Ren.

“Excuse me, General?” Finn asks when they’re returned to the command center. The rest of the staff have thrown themselves back into considering ways to make their prisoner talk, but General Organa is studying the map of planets Finn compiled on his trip. Her attention swivels to him, and Finn is careful to keep his voice down when he continues.

“I think I may know a way to get Hux to talk, if you’ll let me.”

Her eyebrows raise in surprise. “Why didn’t you say so before?”

“I—um…” He can feel himself flushing, fighting the urge to shuffle under her intense gaze. “It was more of last resort kind of thing.”

“What is it you had in mind?”

“Back when I was a Stormtrooper, Hux and I had an… arrangement. Favor for a favor, you know? I think I can get him to give up the information, if I can offer the right thing in return.”

“The only thing your old commander wants right now is his freedom, and we can’t well give him that.”

Hux has been locked in that cell for what, almost a week now? A week without contact with people beyond the brief, futile interrogation attempts? Finn likes to think he knows the other man well enough to assume that, right now, Hux is so wound up that he’ll probably go so far as to offer the deal himself should Finn step foot in the cell.

“I think I can offer him something else that he’ll accept, ma’am.”

If Organa catches the insinuation behind his words, she’s kind enough to keep it to herself. Instead she waves him off with a dismissive hand and orders to, “do as you see best”. Her attention returns to the holoprojector, and Finn takes the opportunity to flee from the command center. With General Organa’s permission strengthening his resolve, Finn returns to his and Poe’s shared quarters and shrugs out of the leather jacket his friend had given him, folding it and leaving it carefully on his bunk. As much as he wants its reassuring weight, he’d hate for something to happen to it. Instead he pads into the fresher and splashes water on his face to help ground him against the panic that’s threatening to swell even with the General’s order still ringing in his ears.

He hasn’t seen Hux since their final rendezvous aboard the Finalizer shortly before he was sent to Jakku; since he’d fled the First Order and led the Resistance in the fight that destroyed the General’s most profound accomplishment: Starkiller. Hux is going to be furious with him. If he’s lucky, the other man will let Finn get away with sucking him off instead of giving him the beating he’s probably owed for his betrayal. Not like it matters—Finn would betray the Order a hundred times over, if given the choice between them and the Resistance. And now his new friends are counting on him to protect them, even if that means suffering at his former commander’s hand.

The thought of protecting Poe and Rey and General Organa and everything Han Solo fought for is enough to strengthen his will to the point where he pushes away from the basin of the sink, suddenly prepared to face whatever the encounter may bring. Every smiling face that greets him on his way down to the detention block only strengthens his resolve. These are his people, and he’s doing this for them. He’s done it a hundred times before, for much less selfless reasons. Before, he’d just wanted extra rations or new undershirts or a day spent below silk sheets with no Phasma shouting orders. Now, he’s doing it to protect everyone. He’s going to get those trade routes if it kills him.

Hux’s cell is the furthest down—isolated enough that no one should bother them over the course of their confrontation. Finn pauses at the door, collecting himself once more, before he pushes it open and steps into the room.

Hux looks like shit, to put it mildly. The once-regal man is sprawled out on the small cot in the corner, eyes fixed firmly on the ceiling, his usually perfectly styled hair wildly askew. They’ve allowed him to shower, apparently, as he’s wearing one of the Resistance uniforms. Its olive green color, nor the cut, does not do him any favors. There’s an untouched tray of food on the floor just inside the door, and Finn wonders if the hunger strike has been going on the whole time, or it’s a recently developed protest to captivity. He would guess the latter, as Hux doesn’t seem to have lost any substantial weight.

“FN-2187,” Hux greets, finally deigning to look at him, “I didn’t expect to see you up and about. Kylo Ren told me he’d done quite a number on you at Starkiller.”

“It’s amazing what you can come back from when your medics actually care,” Finn retorts, remembering the countless ‘troopers the First Order had executed instead of wasting resources. “And it’s Finn, now.”

“Is is?” Hux sneers, pushing himself upright and swinging his legs until they’re off the side of the cot and they’re face to face. “What brings you down here? Come to see your General made low at last?”

“No,” Finn says simply, and begins to close the distance between them.

Hux is motionless as Finn approaches, coiled like a snake prepared to strike. He doesn’t move, doesn’t say a word, doesn’t do anything but watch as Finn carefully climbs onto the bunk and straddles him, knees planted on either side of the seated man’s hips. It’s not the most balanced of positions and Hux makes no move to stabilize him, forcing Finn to wrap his arms around the other man’s neck, bringing them nearly chest to chest.

“What are you doing?” Hux hisses, finally forced to lift his hands and take hold of Finn’s hips when the smaller man begins to rock against his lap.

“What does it look like?” Finn purrs, emphasizing it with another slow grind.

He’s not entirely surprised when Hux snarls, using his superior size to shove Finn off him and pin him to the scratchy sheets, hips between Finn’s splayed thighs and both hands around Finn’s throat. Hux simply killing him was always a potential outcome to this situation.

“You have taken everything from me,” Hux snarls, teeth bared in violent rage. “Destroyed my name, my reputation, my life’s work. What could you possibly want—”

He cuts himself off, considering Finn for a moment. Finn looks evenly up at him, calm despite the hands that compress his windpipe with steadily increasing pressure. He had learned a long time ago, when these encounters first began, that struggle would only make things worse.

“The trade routes? The outposts? That’s what this is about?” Hux’s bitter laugh is loud in the quiet room. “Is Organa so desperate that she would let you whore yourself out for information?”

“That’s the way this works, isn’t it?” Finn chokes out between strangled breaths, “Quid pro quo.”

Hux is already half-hard where the man’s hips are pressed into Finn’s own, his body reacting to the friction and the familiar position without his approval. Rolling his hips up into Hux’s draws a ragged gasp from the man, fingers loosening enough with the sensation for Finn to draw a few much-needed breaths of air. The grip on his neck is likely to leave bruises that will be difficult to explain away, but Finn reminds himself that it’s for the greater good.

The hands leave his throat completely when he makes to rock into Hux again, stilling his hips in an iron grip.

“I should kill you,” Hux growls, but the menace from before is missing.

He’s practically panting, pupils blown wide with desire as he fumbles with the zip of his pants. He tugs them apart just far enough to free himself, his cock swelling to fullness with a few rapid strokes. Finn makes for his own belt, only for Hux to bat his hands away. Returning his grip to Finn’s hips, he smoothly rolls them over until their position resembles how they started, but this time with Finn perched atop Hux’s prone form. A hard press to his shoulder gets the point across, and Finn carefully crawls down the length of the cot until he’s eye-level with Hux’s hard length.

The first touch of his tongue to the tip draws a hiss from Hux, the other man’s hands coming down to curl around Finn’s shoulders as he licks and sucks lightly at the sensitive head. Slowly moving downward, he mouths along the length until he reaches the base, following a pulsing vein with his tongue all the way back up. Then, he takes Hux into his mouth.

Judging by the very surprised noise Hux makes and will definitely deny later, it’s been some time since anyone has done this for him—well beyond the week he’s spent in confinement. Finn can’t help but feel a swell of something like smugness that Hux hadn’t been able to find someone capable of replacing him. It bolsters his own flagging erection, which presses uncomfortably against the zip of his pants. He knows better than to reach for it, though, having already been corrected in his earlier attempts.

The taste and heft of Hux’s cock on his tongue is a familiar sensation. Still, he takes a moment to fully adjust to the feeling before setting to work. Above him, Hux is swearing with a fluency others would never expect from the buttoned-down general. Finn drags his teeth gently along the shaft, priding himself on the particularly colorful expletive it summons. For all the General used to berate him for his noises in bed, Hux is hardly quiet himself.

A hand moves from his shoulder to curl around the nape of his neck, the tight grip more or less guiding as Hux thrusts up into his mouth. Finn lets his jaw go slack, lets Hux use his mouth until he tenses, releasing into Finn’s mouth with a ragged moan. Swallowing obediently, Finn pulls off and begins to lap gently at the mess remaining on Hux’s now-soft cock. The man hisses at the sensation, overly sensitive in the wake of his orgasm, and shoves Finn heedlessly to get to stop.

Finn falls to the floor with a hard thud, left panting and hard on the cold duracrete as Hux tucks himself gingerly back into his pants.

“I hope you have something to write this down on,” the man says between breaths, momentarily throwing Finn.

Ah, right, the information.

When Finn makes to leave, everything safely recorded on a datapad, Hux sprawls back out on the cot in much the same way he’d been when Finn first arrived. He’s more relaxed now, though, muscles loose with the pleasant haze of afterglow. He fixes Finn with a lopsided smile, looking all the world like a lazy predator after a meal.

“If you need anything else,” Hux drawls, “you know where I’ll be.”

**Author's Note:**

> Forgive me father, for I have sinned.


End file.
